


Let's Not Change A Thing

by destiel88



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon!Dean, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 23:43:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1666835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destiel88/pseuds/destiel88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the year 2199. Things rarely change. The setting is different, maybe the characters if you’re lucky, but everything else? No difference.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Not Change A Thing

**Author's Note:**

> My beta was Microsoft Word. You have been warned.

**Year 2199**

It was rare to find untouched pieces of land nowadays. Everything seemed to be either steel or chrome, but there Dean Winchester stood in front of the salvage yard in the middle of what was left of South Dakota before everyone headed off planet to escape overpopulation and a load of other problems that no one wanted to deal with. He sat in his 2167 Impala, the top of her line back in the day, now it was a pain just keeping her hover boosters going.

Dean watched the house as a man came out in a white uniform and meshed mask, walking a little bowlegged as he walked to the hives that he kept on the side of the house. Either he didn't notice Dean sitting in the car just off to the side or he didn't care. Instead, he just tended to the bees that were in his care. Living off planet most of his life, Dean had never seen what a real bee looked until now, but he wasn't impressed, not by the bee or the man in front of him.

Getting out of the car, Dean began to walk towards the house, hoping to sneak in while the man was distracted. However, before he could take another step, the man was suddenly in front of him. He was young with his face full of freckles. The only features that revealed his age were the lines around his eyes and the blackness that filled his eyes as he glared angrily at him.

"What are you doing there?" the man growled at him.

"I'm looking for the First Blade," Dean replied, not fazed, having fought countless demons before him, no matter how tough rumors made this one out to be.

"That's a mistake, kiddo," the man said, his eyes fading into a bright, lifeless green. "That blade causes nothing but trouble."

"I need it!"

"Trust me. No one needs it."

Turning his back on Dean, the man made his way inside. Dean followed eagerly after him, glad that the man was making no stop him. The home was simple enough with dust old furniture that looked like it predated anything that Dean had ever seen. There were old books everywhere with strange titles written in languages that he could barely read. On the old writing desk, near the dustiest bookshelf was a singular framed picture of a man in a trenchcoat with bright blue eyes.

"You don't see many still photos," Dean commented as he picked up the photo.

"No, you don't," the man replied, snapping the picture out of his hand to place it back onto the writing desk. "It's a relic, much like everything else in this house."

"You included?"

"Watch your tongue," he warned, shaking his head. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Dean Winchester."

The man before him paused, eyes narrowing a bit as he seemed to search him. Dean didn't look like much with dark hair and hazel eyes. He didn't have freckles like his younger brother or the trim build. He didn't have his intelligence either, which was why he was here seeking the blade.

"You related to a Sam Winchester?" he asked after awhile.

"Uh, sounds familiar. I think... Maybe way back when. We've just always been a family of Deans. My dad was Dean. His dad was Dean. It's just tradition to name your first son Dean in the Winchester family."

The man sighed. "Of course it is. Come on, kiddo. Let's get you something to eat before we get you on your way again."

"I'm not leaving here until I get the First Blade."

"Yeah, you are." The man shook his head. "Why do you even want it to begin with?"

"See, it's this family legend. There was once this shitty angel called Metatron. He wanted to rule the world and all that crap. Typical evil villain type shit. Then my a couple of greats Gruncle Dean beat the bastard with the blade. It made him unstoppable."

"You ever hear the rest of that story?"

"It's all I ever needed to know."

Going over to the table, the man picked up the photo. He kissed the top of the man in the picture's head, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his face was softer with a small smile flickering across his hardened features.

"That's Cas," the man said, pointing to the man in the trenchcoat. "He loved bees, spoke to them sometimes when he was out of it and couldn't make sense of his own thoughts. Showed up on the hood of my car once covered in them..." He trailed off blushing softly. "You got someone you love?"

"Just my brother."

"Well, the First Blade, it'll rip all that from you. The people you're trying to save, you will rip them apart until there is nothing left. Then once it has you, the only way to break its hold is with the blood of the one you love on your hands."

"That won't happen to me. This is to save him, to save all of them. You don't know what's out there! What I have to face since you're sitting on your ass doing nothing!"

The man opened his mouth to protest but the roar of engines outside cut him off. Going to the window, Dean and the man peeked to see that demons had begun to land their cars outside. Gritting his teeth, the man grabbed Dean, his eyes going black as he pushed him against the wall.

"You led demons here?" he growled venomously.

"Not on purpose!" Dean exclaimed. "It proves my point, though! Demons are after me, after my brother, after the angel helping me. I have to be just as strong as them, if not stronger."

The man frowned but pulled back. "Hold them off."

"What? By myself?"

"You can do it. I did when I was in your shoes."

Confusion flooded Dean's face, but he couldn't protest. One, because the man that he had come to seek had vanished, and two, the demons had made it to the front door. As they pounded and began to make cut their way through the thin, wooden door, Dean removed the angel blade from his jacket pocket, ready for a fight.

* * *

In ramshackle barn covered in old wood and faded, black symbols, Dean, the first Dean, stood in front of a headstone with a stone angel sitting upon it. Though it was faded because of time, Dean could still read the faded letter. He knew them by heart. He knew that the gravestone read "Castiel".

"Hey, Cas," Dean said as he let his eyes fade from black to green. "I know I don't visit that often any more, but well, you know, bees don't tend themselves..." He ran a hand through his short, light brown hair. "Yeah, they do. I guess it just gets harder year after year. I wasn't even planning on visiting this year, but- Well, something's come up. I know what I promised you, Cas, and I know wherever are, you're smiling down at me like the angel you are. I guess I have to ask you a favor. Look away, Cas, because I sure as Hell can't disappoint you again."

Dean paused, choking back the tears that had formed before he reached into the ground. He felt the First Blade call to him, reach out to him. Licking his lips, he called back, hearing the breaking wood of the casket. Pulling his hand out of the dirt, Dean looked over it. Soon, it would have a new master. Maybe this time, however, history wouldn't repeat itself.


End file.
